ng. The lad speaking appeared to be an object of
criticism and amusement rather than of respect but he went on talking in
a schoolboy fashion of "the rights of the people." He was in a West
Riding evening-suit, he had a flower in his coat, and a pair of white
gloves in his hand.

"Rich people all hev their rights," he said, "but a poor lad like me
can't spend his hard-earned wage without heving to pay this and that
sixpenny claim--"

"For board and lodging, Sam," cried a pretty girl impatient for the
talking to cease, and the dance to begin.

"Silence!" a voice called authoritatively and the lecturer stopped and
looked round. Then a big dark man pushed his way through the tittering
crowd of girls and reaching the platform, stretched out his hand and
grasping one of its supports, leaped lightly to it. The feat was not an
easy one and it was boldly and gracefully done; a hearty cheer greeted
its success. Even John joined in it and then he looked at the man and
though there was a slight change in appearance, knew him. It was Ralph
Lugur, and as soon as he was generally recognized, order and silence
reigned. He turned first to the speaker.

"Samuel, my boy," he said, "keep quiet until you learn how to talk. Your
place is at a bobbin frame, it isn't on a platform. What do you know
about a rich man's rights?" and a pretty girl looked saucily at the
blushing lad and laughed.

"I'll tell you, friends," continued Lugur, "how much right a rich man
has in his wealth. He has practically very little. The Poor Laws, the
Sunday Laws, the School Laws, the Income Tax, and twenty other taxes
that he must pay completely prevent him from doing as he likes with his
own money. Rich men are only the stewards of the poor man. They have to
provide him with bread, homes, roads, ships, railways, parks, music,
schools, doctors, hospitals, and a large variety of other comforts and
amusements. And, my dear friends, this is not tyranny. Oh no! It is
civilization. And if all these obligations did not control him, there
are two powerful and significant people whom he _has_ to obey whether he
likes to or not. I mean a lady you don't know much about, called Mrs.
Grundy; and a gentleman whom you know as much of as you want to know,
called Policeman A. Don't you fall into the mistake of taking sides
against your country. No! Don't do that but,

"Let the laws of your own land,
Good or bad, between you stand."

Then he slipped off the platfo